


Twitter Is Overrated Anyway

by primreceded



Category: Supernatural RPS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-03
Updated: 2009-05-03
Packaged: 2017-11-16 00:21:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primreceded/pseuds/primreceded





	Twitter Is Overrated Anyway

**Title:** Twitter Is Overrated Anyway  
 **Rating:** R  
 **Fandom:** Supernatural RPS  
 **Disclaimer:** Characters are real, story is a bizarre fantasy. I am in no way earning money or other profit from this fanfic.  
 **Char/Pair:** Jensen/OMC, Jensen/Chris (implied), Jared/Jensen  
 **Prompt:** Roswell J2 style.  
 **Spoilers:** None  
 **Warnings:** Slash, poor attempt at humor, language. Twitter.  
 **W/C:** 2,461  
 **A/N:** This was kinda fun to do, though I don't know much about _Roswell_ I've only seen the first twenty minutes of the pilot, so that's what this is based on. Unbeta'd so mistakes are mine.

Written for [](http://www.insanejournal.com/users/sazzy_angel/profile)[**sazzy_angel**](http://www.insanejournal.com/users/sazzy_angel/), I hope you like it! :D

Jensen Twitters constantly. In class, at lunch, when he’s doing his homework. He’s kind of addicted. But it’s fun, one hundred and forty character snippets of his day. He doesn’t need anything longer than that, just snapshots. He’s got his phone open now and he logs on, thumbs one out quick - _English sucks, need gummy bears_ , then flips it closed again before pushing the doors to the school open and bursting into the afternoon sunlight.

He shoves his way past the crowd of kids waiting for the bus and starts up the sidewalk towards his house. Steve and Chris have a gig and Jensen has promised he’d help set up their equipment, resolutely refused to sing with them. Though after a couple of (illegal) beers, he’d do just about anything if asked nicely enough. Of course that’s not always a necessary requirement. He needs to get home to stash his books before heading out to the club before it gets too late and the bouncer shows up. _I’m with the band_ doesn’t really carry much weight when the band is two dudes with acoustic guitars.

His phone beeps in his pocket, new message waiting and he pulls it out and flips it open. He grins at the reply to his Tweet from Mike and quickly shoots out a response. They get into these wars sometimes, see who can outwit each other. Mike invariably ends up calling him a douchebag so Jensen is declared, by default, the winner. He’ll take the victory, even if it’s classless.

In hindsight he probably should have put the phone down before he started across the street. His mother had told him constantly as a kid, and like, last week, to make sure he looked both ways before crossing and he usually does. But really, what are the odds he’d _actually_ get hit by a car? Pretty high, apparently.

The impact doesn’t really hurt, and the sound of the windshield cracking is kinda cool, he thinks on the way down. Just like in the movies. But then he has a moment to lie there and _feel_ and every sense and nerve in his body is telling him he’s in pain and he can’t, it _hurts_ everywhere and it hurts to breathe and he can’t. There’s a warm puddle spreading out around his head and he thinks his ear may be bleeding but he’s not sure. And then he hears the car door open and footsteps running and then there’s a guy standing over him looking panicked and asking him if he’s alive.

He doesn’t know.

“Call an ambulance,” a second voice says and then there are footsteps again as the guy goes back to his car. The voice sounds familiar and struggles to place it, and then a face is looming over him and through half-lidded eyes he sees that it’s Jared. Jared Pada… something, he‘s not sure. But he’s leaning over him and mumbling something about Jensen looking at him, and he is looking at him. And it’s kinda weird he never noticed how hot Jared Platypus was before, how pretty his eyes were. Like they couldn’t decide which color they wanted to be. And he really hopes it’s the head trauma that’s got him thinking words like pretty.

“Hey man, keep looking at me, okay?”

Dammit, he _is_ looking at him. Jesus, vain much? With a last name like Pettifogging he shouldn’t be so full of himself. And he’s not that hot… okay he is, but still. And then Jared is putting his big paws all over Jensen’s face and that’s kind of nice, comforting even though they’re calloused and Jensen doesn’t want to think about how they got that way… okay may be he does.

Jensen thinks he’s crying, he’s not sure but there’s moisture on his face. He knows those whimpers are coming from him because Jared’s still mumbling and the guy in the car is freaking out over his cell phone. It’s kind of embarrassing actually. Jared moves his hands down over his neck and to his shoulders, and they finally rest on his forearms. A warmth spreads through him, tingling and he feels every hurt fade and he sighs.

Jared pulls his hands away after a moment and sits back on his haunches and stares down at Jensen. There are sirens wailing in the distance but Jensen feels fine. He sits up and his back cracks and his head aches a little, but that‘s all.

“You okay?” Jared asks, concern in his hazel eyes. Jensen nods, smiles and moves to stand. “Careful,” Jared follows him up, hand on his elbow to brace him. He’s a little dizzy.

“Thanks,” he says. Jared nods and drops his hand, shoves them both into the pockets of his jeans and stays standing next to Jensen. “I guess it wasn’t as bad as it looked, huh?” Jensen asks.

“Guess not,” Jared’s mouth quirks up into a smile and Jensen smiles back, nods, checks himself over for any kind of damage.

The ambulance finally pulls up and the guy who hit him jumps out of his car to talk to a paramedic, or rather to plead his innocence to a paramedic, while the other comes over to check Jensen out. He tells the guy he’s fine, turns to Jared for backup but he’s already gone. He’d be a little weirded out about how fast the guy had taken off if a. Jared’s legs weren’t so long and b. he hadn’t spotted his cell phone lying in a broken pile by the curb.

\---

Jensen finally manages to shrug off the paramedics, and eventually the cops who had shown up to investigate. No charges pressed, much to the relief of the guy who hit him (or at least the sobbing mess that he turned into) and everyone lives happily for another day. He is late getting home, though and he just barely gets to the club in time. Slips in through the backdoor and almost gets caught by the night manager.

Steve and Chris don’t give him a hard time, are only happy to see him and they clap him on the back, drag him into a one armed hug and then set him to task. They don’t have time to talk, though, once he’s finished and Jensen weaves his way through the crowd while they start playing, sways to the music. They play a few fast tunes, introduce a new one about a hummingbird named Billy or something, Jensen’s not really sure. He’ll have to ask Steve later. For now he’s caught someone’s eye, tall and dark haired and he’s pretty sure those blue eyes are called piercing. He jerks his head in the direction of the bathrooms then goes to wait.

He’s leaning against the wall, cold tile beneath his hands, when the door swings open, closed and is then dead bolted. He knows it’s wrong, but that’s why he does it. Nameless hookup in the back of a bar, bathroom of a club (or that one time he went down on Chris behind the bleachers, which they _never_ talk about, thank you very much) - it all probably says something about his commitment and lack of desire to, but if he thinks about it it makes his eyes sting. So he doesn’t think about it ever and he gets off in the process.

The guy pushes up against him, practically seals them together and the only air is what they’re sharing before he presses his mouth to Jensen’s. It gets heavy and just that more hot and then the guy is pealing Jensen’s shirt over his head and running his hands along his torso. He fastens his lips to Jensen’s neck and starts sucking and biting there, Jensen throws his head back to allow him more room, tilts to the side and watches them in the mirror above the sink.

His eyes travel down, tries not to think about floppy brown hair and pretty eyes, giant hands running the length of his body. Tries and fails because there’s a bright red handprint on his shoulder. He shoves the guy away, and he curses and stumbles before righting himself on the garbage can while Jensen stalks over to the mirror.

“What the fuck?” He whispers, running his hand over the scar. It’s bright red and puffy, doesn’t hurt but looks like it should.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Jensen turns to the guy, tells him to get the hell out before picking up his shirt and throwing it back on.

“What?”

“I said get out!” He shouts and the guy flips him off before unbolting the door and then slamming it behind him after he leaves. Jensen turns back to the sink and turns it on, splashes his face with cold water before shutting it off again.

“What the fuck?”

\---

 

Jensen spends the next day at school avoiding people as best he can. He doesn’t know whether he should confront Jared or not, doesn’t know what he’d even say. He shares last period biology with him and Jared’s late getting there so the only seat available is next to Jensen. Figures, doesn’t it?

“Thanks for joining us, Mr. Padalecki.”

 _Padalecki,_ that’s it, Jensen thinks. Jared smiles tightly over at him before opening his notebook and stares at the empty page. The class goes by slowly, Jared doesn’t look up once the entire time. The teacher passes out worksheets, gives them the assignment of taking hair samples and looking at them under the microscopes that are in front of them. Jared doesn’t make a move, so Jensen does it for him.

“Ouch!” Jared grabs the back of his head where Jensen bad pulled the hair and Jensen offers him an apologetic smile.

“Sorry,” he says. “It had to be done,” he points to the assignment sheet and Jared frowns. Jensen ignores him though, slips the strand of hair through the slides and then under the microscope. It doesn’t look anything at all like the sample of his own hair and he gives Jared a weird look.

The bell rings before he can say anything to him and Jensen jumps at the sound, at Jared practically running from the room. He grabs his own stuff, throws it into his backpack and chases after the other boy.

“Jared!” He calls after him, picks up his pace because damn, the boy is all leg. “Jared, wait up!” He almost crashes into Jared’s back when he stops abruptly in the hallway. “Right, thanks. So um. What the hell is up with your hair?”

“I’ve got a new shampoo,” Jared says.

“Funny, but no. I mean I’m not the sharpest nail, but I’m not stupid either and whatever that was? Was not normal,” Jensen grabs Jared’s arm and tugs him into the empty classroom behind him. He clicks the lock shut and draws the shade over the glass window before turning to Jared, who’s seated himself on a desk.

“Come on man, I know something’s up,” he says. Jared just sits there with his head down staring at his feet and Jensen’s starting to get pissed. “Look,” he says angrily and pulls up the sleeve of his tee-shirt. The handprint is still there, hasn’t faded at all no matter how much ointment he put on it, no matter how much he scrubbed. “You gonna tell me that’s normal?”

Jared looks up, then, face softening when he sees the mark on Jensen’s arm and he takes a step forward. He reaches up and runs a finger over the inflammation before dropping his arm heavily down to his side. Sighs and says, “I have to tell you something, and you have to promise not to say anything to anyone because I can’t even begin to tell you what would happen.”

He pauses and waits for Jensen to nod, which he does, and Jared continues, “I’m not from around here,” he says.

“So, where are you from?” Jensen asks and Jared points up with one long finger, “Canada?” Jared shakes is head, smiles and Jensen realizes what he’s talking about. “So… you’re an alien?” Jared nods.

And okay, maybe he does have head trauma and this is all some kind of coma induced nightmare. Or, maybe.

“Okay, so you’re insane. And I’m gonna go,” Jensen says and starts to back up. Jared grabs him by the arm before he can get the door unlocked, though and he spins him around.

“Explain the hair then, Jensen. The handprint?”

And he can’t explain those things, but there’s got to be another explanation other than _alien_ right? He breaks free of Jared’s grasp and scrubs his hands over his face, keeps them over his eyes so he doesn’t have to see.

“I know how you chipped your tooth when you were five,” Jared says. Randomly. “You were hanging upside down from the monkey bars to show off to Danneel, but she ran off to go play with Riley and you fell and cracked your mouth on the bottom set of bars. You tried not to cry.”

Jensen remembers that, remembers watching the upside down redhead run away while holding hands with Riley Smith. The little punk. But, he doesn’t remember Jared being there. “How do you know that? I didn’t meet you until fifth grade.”

“No, you didn’t. When we touched yesterday, when. When I healed you, I got these images --”

“You reading my mind?” Jensen interrupts, suddenly angry. There’s a lot of stuff that runs through his head and some of that is not for sharing.

“Of course not, I wouldn’t do that. It was just your memories, or that memory at least. I don’t know why it happened, it never did before.” Jared takes a step towards him, another until he’s right in front of him, toe tip to shoulder and he puts his hands on Jensen’s face. “I’d like to try something, if you don’t mind? See if it works both ways.”

Jensen waits a moment, then nods. Figures it’s only fair. Jared closes his eyes then leans forward, leans their foreheads together. Then he’s pressing his lips against Jensen’s and is kissing him and it’s amazing. Images flash through his mind of Jared showing up in fifth grade, pants too short and face dirty. Jared walking through the halls and watching Jensen type on his phone. Jared lonely.

They break apart and Jensen groans at the loss, opens his eyes to find Jared watching. “Did it work?” Jared asks. Jensen nods and he slides his eyes shut again.

“Let’s try again, just to make sure.”

They do, and it’s just as amazing and Jensen never wants to stop. Thinks he may have found something he’s even more addicted to than Twitter.


End file.
